Table of contents
- On the way: Corsica First encounter
- The Mediterranean is as calm as the Inner Alster
- Good tar and rock-hard looks back to the sea
- Info
Jo Deleker
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Travel: On the way in Corsica
On the way: Corsica
First encounter
For many motorcyclists, Corsica is a dream destination for their first trip to the south. But some discover the Mediterranean island late. Better late than never, because a motorcycle life without Corsica is unimaginable.
Joachim Deleker
06/06/2013
Where could the first real tour of the year lead? Friends suggest Corsica: “Corsica? I’ve never been. “” What? Have you never been to Corsica? Have you visited seven continents, seen 80 countries, driven 600,000 kilometers and left out Corsica? ”Embarrassing, but that’s how it is. So let’s go to the French Mediterranean island. And on an exciting way: Coming from Sardinia, the small ferry approaches the spectacular white cliffs of Bonifacio. Some houses defiantly sit on the overhanging edge of the crumbling limestone cliffs. It is not a question of whether, but when a large piece of the fragile rock falls into the sea again, maybe even taking a house with it. The day after tomorrow or 1000 years from now, nobody can say that. Life on the edge. I climb many steps up into the old town, which is secured by mighty fortress walls. Up here there is no sign of the ever-present danger of demolition. A maze of narrow streets, many of them barely the width of a car, squeezes between old houses, some restored, others run-down, a fascinating atmosphere.
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Enough of the city, out into the country. The Tenere is saddled early in the morning and heads for the east coast. Quite boring here, the beaches are often privately owned, the road dead straight, the hills insignificant, sprawled by villas and holiday homes, the coast not screaming either. After 70 kilometers I’ve had enough, turn into the mountains in Solenzara. And immediately the Corsican world changes. The narrow D 268 follows the narrow valley up to the Col de Larone. And this is where things really start. In front of me the bizarre, almost 2000 meter high rock towers of Aigle de Bavellas bore into the deep blue sky, mountains that are reminiscent of the Dolomites. The straight no longer takes place with immediate effect, the D 268 climbs in the finest curves up to the Col de Bavella. Monumental pines in front of vertical rock walls, a grandiose scenery and light years away from the boredom of the east coast. Pretty nice up here.
Down to Zonza, three laps of honor – loudly commented by a group of students – turned around the tiny roundabout until I finally see the sign for Aullène. And further, that’s how I imagined Corsica: mountains as far as the eye can see, now and then a small village with rough brown stone houses, winding, almost traffic-free country roads. Too bad that the rain of the last week washed so much sand and dirt over the road, plus the constantly changing types of asphalt, paired with often completely secluded bends. I mess around like a beginner, let myself be irritated by sand, grit, stones, cows parked on the roadway and crossing half-wild boars.
The Mediterranean is as calm as the Inner Alster
Deleker
The ease of cornering on the D 155 over the Gulf of Valinco.
But it gets better the closer I get to the west coast. Apparently it didn’t rain there, the streets are clean, a little wider, the curves hardly sneaky and the occasional brown pigs are less suicidal or have simply paid more attention in traffic lessons. I find a nice little campsite right by the sea near Popriano. The boss tells of a storm in the south of France, unusual for this time of year. But I shouldn’t worry, the low won’t get to Corsica, at most it could get very windy. The Mediterranean is still as calm as the Inner Alster, but a storm out there would have to send great waves against the west coast. So I reschedule, postpone the cruise inland and prefer to stay on the coast, looking forward to crashing breakers on steep rocks.
The next day nothing moves, no sea, no air, no cloud. Patience, it will be fine. I stay in close contact with the coast, follow the fine D 155 northwards. What a wonderful morning. Velvety soft and warm air, the smell of blooming macchia, a wide view of staggered mountain ranges on the Gulf of Valinco, now and then a cafe au lait and otherwise just drive and enjoy. In this lightness of the morning I give myself the coastal dream D 81. On the left the sea, on the horizon the highest mountains on the island, then these incredible passes Punta Vida, Col San Martino and Col di Lava.
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And then a completely new film knocks me out of my slips at Piana. Without prior notice, without a commercial break. Zack, there it is, the Gulf of Porto, the cream slices of Corsica, one of the most beautiful coastal landscapes ever. Vertical rock walls, bizarre yellow-red granite towers, often strangely shaped masterpieces of erosion, far below the sea. This is the calanche. Of course I had heard of her, had seen pictures, but the reality in the warm soft evening light looks a thousand times better.
At the moment I’m excited, I roll down to Porto in slow motion, where I’m looking for a place for the next few days. Overnight the wind picks up properly, models four-meter-high waves, drives them into the bay, where they break with force on the beach or burst on the red rocks to form clouds of spray as high as a house. Today the sea is the attraction. To the north, the D 81 goes a step further, daringly shimmy along the vertical wall, only a knee-high wall is supposed to protect against free fall into the sea. The views up to the Col de Palmarella change every second, to dream bays like that of Bussaglia, to rugged red mountains that rise steeply out of the sea, and to the endless cocktail of curves on this road.
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Good tar and rock-hard looks back to the sea
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Warm appearance: the imaginatively eroded granite rocks of the Calanche. Every few meters this landscape amazes with a new vantage point.
A dream for motorcyclists, a nightmare for others. Coaches. Why are they even allowed to drive on this street? On the way back to Porto, Eberhardt’s five-star long-distance coach got wedged in a tight curve and was confronted with an oncoming armada of ten mobile homes. Rien ne va plus. The bus cannot reverse, especially not the retirees in their wagons. It can take weeks. Somehow I can get the Yamaha through between the rock face and the bus with a few abrasions on the aluminum case. I would be interested to know whether the opponents have to hibernate here.
Just as quickly as the sea became disturbed, it bobbed lazily in the bay again the next morning. Time for the mountains. Through the deeply notched Spelunca Gorge with an old Genoese bridge, I curve upwards on the D 84. Fine road, the best radii, finally good tar, rock-hard views over mountains and valleys to the sea. If only the Corsican wouldn’t love his freedom so much. He also takes it when driving a car, does not allow his line to be dictated by the median of a curve and cuts pain-free on the ideal line downhill.
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Atmosphere in the narrow streets of the old university town of Corte.
If only I had a ship’s horn on the XT instead of the pathetic Japan horn. Fortunately, the streets are not that overcrowded in May and the adrenaline rushes remain within limits. Evisa – Col de Vergio – Albertacce – Corte. Initially pine forest, then meadows, a reservoir, the Regina Gorge and then views of the snow-covered mountains up to the highest, the 2706 meter high Monte Cinto. For two days I curve through the mountains in the center of Corsica, over bumpy passes that cannot damage the Tenere’s chassis, through sleepy villages and dense forests and am happy about the relaxed driving in the preseason.
Before the threatened big rain falls over the mountains from the south, I flee north to the fertile Balagne, where the island shows a completely different face. And what a beautiful one. The sea between Calvi and LÎle-Rousse leaves only a narrow strip for places, fields and the road, then the lush green mountains rise decidedly higher and higher up to Monte Padro, almost 2400 meters high.
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The houses of the upper town of Bonifacios balance recklessly on the overhanging chalk cliffs.
The narrow D 71 hangs from place to place in a panoramic position, one more picturesque than the next, with the climax Speloncato. Spectacularly placed on a ridge, ancient walls, blessed with a fantastic view over the staggered mountain ranges to the Cap-Corse peninsula, paradisiacal tranquility on the central square. Cap Corse, I’ll save that for tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. I would rather stay in Speloncato, watch the clear hustle and bustle, order a second Suppa Corsa and keep asking myself why I didn’t come to Corsica earlier. Much earlier.
Info
archive
Duration of the trip: 14 days; Distance driven: 2000 kilometers.
Corsica is often referred to as the most beautiful island in the Mediterranean. It has its very special character: wild, rugged, gentle, repellent, picturesque, steeped in history and exciting. Corsica is a perfect destination for bikers, especially in May and June, and in summer it is flooded with tourists.
Getting there: All roads lead across the Mediterranean. The ferry companies Corsica Ferries, Moby, SNCM and CNM, for example, sail from Marseille, Nice, Savona and Livorno to Bastia, Ajaccio or Calvi. It is also possible to travel from Sardinia to Bonifacio. If you don’t want to travel to one of the ports on your own wheels, you can comfortably take the DB Autozug overnight to Alessandria from four German train stations and then take the Corsica ferry in Savona barely two hours later. A one-way trip from Dusseldorf costs from 145 euros per person and motorcycle. Information from DBAutozug, phone 0 18 05/24 12 24 or at www.dbautozug.de
Travel time: The best time to visit Corsica is in May and June, when spring lets the country bloom. In July and August the island is overcrowded and it can get over 30 degrees. September and October are again quiet months with mostly consistently good weather. Many campsites close at the end of September.
Accommodation: Even away from the larger towns and the coast, it is easy to find accommodation in the preseason. Many guest houses and campsites do not open until April or May. However, it can be difficult during the summer holidays, when the coasts in particular are overcrowded. Campsites cost eight to 15 euros per person, pensions and hotels are available in all price ranges with surcharges in summer.
Literature: The Corsica travel guide from Michael Muller Verlag is highly recommended for 19.90 euros. The travel guide from the Reise-Knowhow publishing house is at the same high level for 22.50 euros. Other good travel guides for independent travelers come from the publishers Velbinger (24.50 euros) and Lonely Planet (17.95 euros). To get in the mood at home, the DuMont picture atlas costs 8.50 euros. As usual in France, the best map comes from Michelin: Sheet 345 on a scale of 1: 150,000 for 7.50 euros is a must for curious Corsica fans.
Info: There are hundreds of websites about Corsica. A selection:
www.ferien-in-korsika.com
www.korsika.fr
www.visit-corsica.com/de
www.korsika-forum.de/
www.rendezvousenfrance.com
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